Of Rodents And Humans
by Dr. Phoenix
Summary: Co-author with bajy. Basil and Ratigan find themselves in the modern world, and two human sisters meet up with the talking rodents. Now they must try to get the rodents back to Victorian Mousedom, little realizing the challenges that lie ahead. (Allusions to other films/works, but not a cross over.)
1. Chapter 1

_With a peal of maniacal laughter, the villain twirled his cape menacingly, declaring to the hapless citizens, "No one can defeat me now!"_

 _However, all was not lost, for in a burst of light, the clouds parted to reveal…_

The clouds parted to reveal Writer's Block, sworn enemy of Authoress Wannabe. How was she supposed to write a best seller if she couldn't even come up with a good name for a superhero? Would anyone even be interested in reading a book about two nemeses who didn't recognize each other's alter egos and were the closest of friends when not using their super powers?

Michelle's thoughts were interrupted by what must have been a flash of lightning, but it made no sense. The beauty of the sunlight remained unhidden by clouds in the cerulean sky. Her confusion was augmented by the sound of frightened screams, followed by a loud splash in the swimming pool.

"What do you suppose that was, Bailey?" she asked, turning to her sister.

Bailey shrugged. "Beats me."

The young women hurried over to the pool to see two rodents thrashing in the water. A rat appeared to be attempting to drown a mouse.

"Are those two wearing clothes?!" Michelle demanded rhetorically.

As one of the most highly renowned ballerinas in the country, Bailey had perfectly mastered the art of acting under pressure and thinking quickly, all the while maintaining an air of graceful sophistication. Before Michelle had recovered from her shock, Bailey had already gotten a net and rescued the two unusual visitors.

"Curse you, Basil!" the rat exclaimed vehemently.

"Language!" Michelle chided. "My sister and I find it much better if we express ourselves without profanities!"

"How did you get here?" Bailey queried. "I hope it wasn't through the use of magic."

"Hardly!" replied the mouse. "However, I believe it would be more beneficial if we were to resume our discourse after changing our attire."

In a short time, the rodents were sitting on Bailey's couch, wrapped in crudely stitched garments hastily made from pieces of cloth that Michelle had found. She hoped she was mistaken, but the visitors seemed to be growing to human size.

"Alright," Michelle began, "I already know how I came to be visiting my sister this Monday afternoon. We're in the same book club, and we were just rereading a few favorites. What I don't know is how the two of you came to be in the swimming pool."

"Same here." Bailey said, agreeing with her sister.

The mouse held his chin, trying to figure out how he and his arch nemesis were out here in the first place, but nothing came to mind; the same applied for Bailey as she also pondered, wondering how a mouse and a rat in it up in the swimming pool. She hoped that it wasn't by magic, which she despised.

"What was the last thing that you did before you two found yourselves in the swimming pool in my backyard?" she asked them curiously.

Basil turned to the woman in front of him, noting that she looked to be almost 21 years old. She had long brown hair that was slightly curly at the ends and had some bangs that framed her face, slightly rosy red cheeks, earth brown eyes, pale peach skin with a slight tan. She wore a dark magenta shirt, long black sweat pants, a yellow satchel, and black ballet slippers.

He stared at her for a moment, fascinated by this human in a way he couldn't describe, but he did answer her question. "I was investigating a case involving a famous pianist's children being kidnapped. My trusted partner Dawson and I were on the trail until we came upon an abandoned warehouse where the perpetrator was keeping them hostage. When we stepped in, much to my shock and dismay, we found that it was Ratigan who was behind this." He turned to the rat who sat next to him and both glared at each other before he continued, "He was presumed deceased when he plummeted from the clock tower. My partner went to liberate the hostages from Fidget, who somehow managed to survive being cast into the Thames, and Ratigan and I fought each other, my intention being to secure him in prison where he belongs whereas his motive was to cause my demise for interfering too long. As we were literally at each other's throats, there was a flash of light that nearly blinded me, and I immediately felt as if I were falling for a few moments before I found myself landing in water, where my arch enemy was trying to drown me a few minutes ago."

"That's what I felt too, except I was the one trying to drown that miserable pipsqueak upon our rather splashful landing." Ratigan stated.

The two sisters could clearly see that the two rodents regarded each other with repulsion beyond compare.

Michelle cleared her throat. "Before you two think of killing each other, perhaps we can introduce ourselves?"

The glare was broken as the two turned to her.

Ratigan stood, taking off his hat and bowing grandly. "I am Padraic Ratigan, the world's greatest criminal mind. As you've already heard, this is Defective Basil of Baker Street."

"Detective," Basil corrected.

The King of Crime wondered how the two young ladies could possibly be sisters, for the older girl had completely straight hair that hung to her waist, but it was much lighter than Bailey's. The flaxen color reminded him of the golden glow of a wheat field in the summer sun. Her eyes were the color of the sea, and her skin had tanned slightly from time spent outdoors. Although her hands seemed a bit rough, her long nails crowned her slender fingers perfectly.

"Do you keep a cat?" Ratigan asked. "I notice your hands have slight scratches on them. Are these the marks of a playful kitten?"

Hiding a laugh, Michelle responded, "Isaiah was a little eager for his bottle, I suppose. He's one of the new lion cubs."

"Don't lions eat humans?"

"I work at the zoo. I don't know how I stand my life. It's just too awful getting to hold baby lions, baby cheetahs, baby meerkats, baby painted dogs…" She sighed in exasperation and rubbed her forehead as if trying to relieve a migraine. "Those baby wolves were just awful, and don't get me started on how many times I've had to walk around with birds all over me like a living cloak, as if I were some sort of fairy tale princess! It's terrible! Why did I ever go into zoology?!"

"I have been wondering that myself ever since you started working at the zoo." Bailey said to her with a sign.

She turned back to the two rodents in front of her. "My name is Bailey Palmer, and this is my sister, Michelle."

"Might I inquire how you two are related? You bear no resemblance to each other." Basil remarked boldly in curiosity as the professor wondered the same thing.

"Don't worry; we get that a lot. We may not look physically related, but we are indeed related by blood. I get my looks from my mom and a hint of my dad, and Michelle got hers mainly from our Aunt Tory, according to our parents. We've never actually met her; they told us that she lives very far from Pasadena, but they never told us where. I don't know why though." Bailey answered him as she took careful note of the detective's appearance.

He had a very light shade of brown fur and with an even lighter shade around his muzzle, and his eyes were emerald, her favorite color. The investigator piqued her interest for reasons other than her fondness for detectives and detective stories, yet she could not tell what it was.

"So, what now?" Michelle asked her sister.

"I should think that was obvious: Basil and Ratigan will stay here until we can find a way to get them back home." Bailey answered to his sister.

Silence befell the group for a few moments before Basil and Ratigan practically flew off the couch, shouting in protest at the same time.

"I will do no such thing!"

"There's no way I'm staying here with him!"

The detective and professor glared at each other again, this time with even more anger then before; the two knew that there was no way that either of them was going to stay in the same house as the other, but their stare down was soon stopped as Bailey came between them, breaking them apart as she then said with a lot of seriousness, "Alright, break it up, you two; that is enough! You're both acting like children, and it simply will not help your current situation, nor is it becoming of you two."

"WE ARE NOT- -!" the two were about to shout at the same time, but were soon cut off as Bailey spoke again, still serious but also reasonable, "ENOUGH! Now listen! I understand that you two are enemies and do not want to be in the same house as the other, let alone the same room for that matter, but in this case neither of you has any other choice. Both of you are in a world that is obviously very different from your own, and the only ones who know about your existence at the moment are my sister and myself, and if anyone else finds out about you two, then there would be panic, and you both will be taken away to who knows where and be subjected to secret military experiments of the wrong and dangerous sort or even worse than that. You both are just going to have to deal with it until you're back home. You don't have to like each other, but you cannot kill each other, and you two must both be on your best behavior and not argue with the other to the point where someone will get hurt, whether you, the other, or someone else caught in the crossfire. Do I make myself clear?"

The two stared at her for several seconds, both caught off guard by her manner, but they released their sighs as they both knew, no matter how much the other wanted to say otherwise, that Bailey was right. If the two were ever going to get back home, they would both have to learn to live together with their hosts and try not to harm the other, "try" being the key word.

With that decided the two sat back on the couch as they both nodded.

"Very well. We will comply to your conditions to the very best of our abilities," Basil answered.

The Professor nodded in agreement.

"Good. " Bailey concluded.

Michelle chuckled. "That's my sister for you, always wanting to play the peacekeeper whenever things get out of hand." At the mention of _peacekeeper_ , she couldn't help but raise her arm with three fingers extended as a tribute to Suzanne Collins. "Quite reasonable and understanding, but alway quick to react, though her moods do change quite unexpectedly."

"Okay, since I have several guest bedrooms upstairs, it won't be a problem for you both to have a separate room, so to prevent any more arguments or anything worse, I also have two bathrooms, as well as quite a few other rooms in this house so no one will get bored, and this house is far from anyone else's house, surrounded by lots of trees, so no one will freak out if you're outside whether in the front or back yard. However, there is one small problem. "

Understanding Bailey's concern, Michelle concluded, "You both will need your own set of clothes besides the ones that are still in the washing machine right now. Finding clothes for Basil is no problem since he is about the same structure and height as other humans, but Ratigan, on the other hand, is much taller than most humans are, and his body structure is quite different than others; finding clothes for him will be a challenge, and even though my sister and I can sew, we can only do patch jobs. You both have noticed that the clothes we made for you two are not exactly adequate."

The two siblings held their chins as they went into deep thought, but then an idea hit Bailey like a bolt of lightning, "There is a way to fix that problem, It will be risky, but it is a risk that we must take."

"Are you sure?" Michelle asked her cautiously. "Then again, what other choice do we have? Besides I'm sure he will keep this a secret for us, if not for theirs then for our own safety."

Bailey answered her with a nod.

"What are you talking about?" the professor asked them curiously before Basil had the opportunity to pose the question.

The sisters looked at each other for a moment before turning back to their two guests as Bailey explained, "There is one person that we know that can help us with that problem; he's an expert clothes designer that can create any style or design and shape of clothing, no matter what the person's height, age, or body structure. He has been making clothes for a very long time, so making clothes for the professor will not be of any problem whatsoever. Of course he might freak out once see these guys, but I don't have a doubt that he will keep this a secret for us."

"To whom do you refer?" Basil queried.

"Our older brother, of course, who also happens to live here in Pasadena. His name is Alex. The three of us have had a close bond with each other ever since we were very young, so I'm sure he'll understand once we explain to him." Michelle answered him.

Bailey turned to the door.

"Expecting someone?" Michelle inquired.

"No one actually. I wasn't expecting anyone today." Bailey responded.

"Not even Mrs. Small? She did ask you to babysit her kids for her," Michelle pointed out.

"That is true, but that's not until this Wednesday, but I thought I heard someone knock. I'll go check it out." She made her way to the hallway, leaving her sister and two rodent guests alone.

"Miss Palmer, does your sister babysit often?" Ratigan queried.

"She sure does," Michelle answered, "She absolutely love children. It's not only to earn money when she's not at work, but she also wants to get as much experience in child care as she can in case she ever gets married and has kids of her own. She loves to be like a sister/mother figure to as many kids as she meets. She's very friendly and caring, very responsible, and she has a calm demeanor. Everybody loves her. She's just waiting for the right guy to love her romantically. Until then, there's always babysitting and her work on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the local bakery."

Basil lit his pipe. "She is also a participant in theater and ballet, is she not?"

"Yes actually. She's a very lovely, graceful, and well-known actress and ballerina. How did you know that?" Michelle wondered aloud.

"Elementary," Basil responded. "You've no doubt observed her stately gait and how she always..."

"He read it on a program," Ratigan interrupted, picking up a small piece of paper from the coffee table. "See? Here's your sister on the front, and here's her name. This is probably from her last recital."

Attempting to conceal the grin that was beginning to form at the corners of her mouth, Michelle asked, "Well then, Mr. Basil, let us put your sleuthing skills to the test. What can you tell me about myself?"

"Very well then, Miss Palmer. You are employed at the zoological garden, mainly handling the felines: lions, cheetahs, leopards, tigers, jaguars, pumas, caracals, servals, and the like but your specialization is caring for the juvenile animals, more specifically, the infants. On your hands are multiple scars caused by the claws and teeth of those animals, varying in angle, size, and length, for each is caused by a different species of cat. Furthermore, you are an authoress. The deep calluses on you thumbs and first two fingers could only be caused by holding your writing utensil a smidge too tightly from all the writing you've done. Judging from their depth, I can only deduce that you've been book writer for years." Basil answered her.

Michelle stared at him as she blinked at this, quite stunned. "Amazing! I know I already mentioned working in a zoo, but still...!"

"Actually it's elementary, my dear Miss Palmer. " Basil smirked.

Ratigan merely huffed at this as he crossed his arm and turned his head away from him in annoyance.

Would you care to add anything?" Michelle sat beside Ratigan, lightly resting her hand over his. "I know you to be a genius as well."

Ratigan blushed at this, though he tried to hide it as he cleared his throat. Never before had a female approached him like this, nor had he ever courted. Despite his bewilderment as to why he felt this way next to a lady of another species, he quickly shook it off and answered her.

"If you insist. Since the callouses are the same on the fingers of both of your hands, I can estimate that you are ambidextrous. Not only that, but you are also an athlete in tennis and soccer. The callouses on both your palms and fingers show that you were holding the handle of a racket, the size being approximately that of a tennis racket, and you have a nice build in your arms from swinging to hit the ball with said racket. And as for soccer? The build in you legs says it too, from running and kicking a ball that was rolling. You kicked it using your feet, shins, or knees; there are a number of calluses on your legs."

Michelle feigned shock. "For shame! Next I suppose you'll be looking at my ankles!" She lightly punched Ratigan's arm. "Fair is fair. Now I shall tell you about yourselves. Neither of you has much experience talking to women. The first is entirely formal in an effort to conceal any and all emotion, and the second never expected that he would so much as speak to a lady, so he wasn't at all prepared."

The two rodents blinked at her before she continued, "Mr. Basil is a detective judging by his outfit, thought process, and mannerism. The tiny scars on his hands and slight burn stains on the cuffs of his sleeves tell me that he enjoys chemistry, especially working with dangerous chemicals. As for Mr. Ratigan, by the look of his outfit, I could only guess that he use to be a teacher, no, a professor. From what he said earlier, I would have to say that you were one of mathematics because of the way he sees everything as logical. He also favors for operas, which is why he wears a cape, to make him more dramatic and give him the slight appearance of a favored character."

Before anyone else in the room could respond, voices and footsteps were heard in the hallway as they got closer to the living room. One was Bailey's, and the other was an unfamiliar male voice.

"Alex it's okay! They haven't done us harm! There's no need to worry!"

"Bailey, harmless or not, I want to see them and confirm for myself whether or not they are safe to be around. "

"Alex, Michelle and I are older now; we can take care of ourselves. Besides, you might want to slow down. The appearance of our guests is... well, rather odd but they are gentlemen... as long as one doesn't anger the other."

"They fight each other? That's it! I want to see them!"

"Alex, wait!"

The man who came into the room looked to be almost 23 years old. His hair was very short, the same color as Bailey's, but his eyes were the same as Michelle's; his skin was a pale light tan, and his height was close to Ratigan's by an inch and a half. He wore a navy blue jacket on top of a light blue shirt, black pants, and black boots.

As soon as he saw the mouse and rat in the living room, he was taken aback as his eyes widened and his mouth hung open in very deep shock.

"Hello," Michelle greeted nonchalantly. "I was just getting to know our guests." She took Ratigan's hand. "As you can see from the long, slender fingers, he's blatantly a musician."

Alex finally managed to speak. "Bailey, when you said one of your visitors was a rat, I didn't think you meant a literal rodent, let alone two of them!"

Ratigan glared at the man, about to yell at him, but then he remembered what Bailey told him, so he managed to calm himself. "My dear sir, first of all, would you kindly not call me by that word? We are mice, and you are the older brother of these fine young ladies, are you not?"

The three humans looked at him in bewilderment. Why would he not want to be called by his species name? Why would he refer to himself as a mouse when he obviously wasn't? They decided to humor him.

Alex eventually nodded as he answered, "Yes I am. Might I ask who you two are?"

Basil clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You've a rather unusual way for beginning conversations, my good fellow, but I find no harm in introducing ourselves. I am Basil of Baker Street, and this is my nemesis, the nefarious Professor RATigan!"

Ratigan bristled at the emphasis on the first three letters of his name, but he held his tongue. Through his mind raced endless questions about why he had not yet succeeded in his plots against Basil's life.

Although the sleuth remained alert and attempted to give every implication of full attention, his peripheral vision rested on Bailey. She was rather attractive for a human. What a pity she had not been born a rodent!

"Just another Irene Adler," Basil told himself. "What use have I for such nonsense?"

However, despite his finest efforts, his valiant attempts to dismiss Bailey's natural grace were to no avail.

"Mr. Basil?"

He hadn't realized he was daydreaming. Being caught in a reverie highly vexed the investigator.

Are you alright? You've been zoned out for a while." Bailey asked him as he realized that she was staring at him in concern.

"I assure you all is well, Miss Palmer. I was merely introspecting." Basil reassured her.

"Anyway, Bailey mentioned that you two needed me to make you some clothes. Correct?" Alex asked the two rodents.

Basil nodded. "If you would be so kind."

"Once I get the exact measurements of you two... uh, gentlemen, I can get to work on it right away." Alex told them. His tone became serious, "But I will give you two this one warning and one warning only: During your stay here, you both better be on your best behavior because if anything were to happen to my sisters because of you two, I will hunt you down and kill you!"

Michelle laughed and waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, please, Alex! Do you think after all my time at the zoo, I don't know how to dispose of unwanted carcasses?"

Alex sighed. "Okay, you have a point." Unable to resist, he concluded, "but I still stand by what I said! You two got it?!"

The two quickly nodded wordlessly. They could obviously tell that he was very protective of his family, especially of his little sisters.

Bailey changed the subject. "Are you both musicians?"

The two rodents turn to her as they nodded.

"I could tell from their hands. Mr. Basil plays the flute, though he favors the violin. Mr. Ratigan, on the other hand, plays the harp and piano."

"Do either of you write songs?" Michelle asked. "I do sometimes when I get too bored."

Strolling over to her baby grand, she played as she sang a low alto. "Memories, all of mine are with you still. Don't forget me."

Her voice became soprano for the second part of the duet she sang by herself, "Love, I swear I never will. Memories, precious thoughts that turn back time, please let him be one more day alive and mine."

She lowered her voice again. "You'll still have me in memories." Once more her voice raised an octave. "Life too sweet, too short, too fast! How can it be that this day has been his last?! Memories, make this night yesterday's dawn! It's killing me that tomorrow he'll be gone! He's leaving me..."

Here she held the note while playing the lower part of the duet on the piano before finishing, "Just memories."

Everyone clapped as she finished.

Ratigan's heart skipped a beat upon hearing her sing so sweetly. "That was beautiful, Miss Palmer."

Michelle bowed. "Thank you, my dear flatterer."

Turning to Bailey, Basil queried, "Do you sing as well, Miss Palmer?"

"Yes I do, I can't write any good songs, but I can sing pretty well. I've been singing since I was little."

"I think Mr. Basil was asking for a demonstration," Michelle stated.

Bailey blushed slightly. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of..."

"Oh, come on! You know they won't criticize too harshly with Sir Alex the Vigilant Protector around!"

Bailey chuckled at this. "If you insist. "

Taking out her iPhone, she looked for a song to sing. Both Basil and Ratigan took note of some of the odd devices they'd never seen before, for this home of the 21st Century was far different than their own dwellings in the latter Victorian Era. They would have to ask the three humans about what sort of things they had so that they could understand later.

Soon Bailey found a song that she thought that they might like, a melody from a movie she favored. As the music began to play, a few moments later, she started to sing.

Dreams to dream  
In the dark of the night  
When the world goes wrong  
I can still make it right  
I can see, so far in my dreams  
I'll follow my dreams  
Until they come true

Come with me  
You will see what I mean  
There's a world inside  
No one else ever sees  
You will go, so far in my dreams  
Somewhere in my dreams  
Your dreams will come true

There is a star  
Waiting to guide us  
Shining inside us  
When we close our eyes!

Don't let go  
If you stay close to me  
In my dreams tonight  
You will see what I see  
Dreams to dream

As near as can be  
Inside you and me  
They always come true

Basil's breath was stilled at the angelic tones of the melody. As the others applauded, he stood enraptured.

"Will you sing for us, Professor?" Michelle requested.

Ratigan looked away shyly. "Oh...um...I don't know."

"Come now!" she coaxed. "I'll sing with you."

Crossing the room, she sat beside him and began a song from a musical she favored. "Don't you fret, Monsieur Marius. I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." Always overeager to get into character at any opportunity, Michelle couldn't resist stroking his face. "You're here! That's all I need to know, and you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close, and rain will make the flowers grow."

Her head fell on his shoulder, and she smiled serenely up at him.

Ratigan hesitated.

"Wait. You wouldn't know this song, would you? It was written after your time," Michelle observed. "Well, here's how it ends." She gently seized his arm and wrapped it around her.

"If we're through with the theatrics, perhaps we can get down to business," Alex put in.

Everyone suddenly knew what he meant, and Bailey was the first to speak, "Oh yes, of course; we still need to get you two measured and show you around the house. I'm sorry we got so caught up there."

"Yeah, same here. Sorry." Michelle unwrapped herself from Ratigan's arm, slightly embarrassed, although to be honest, she wasn't a bit sorry.

"Never fret. Delightful conversation does tend to distract one." Basil assured them.

"For once I agree with the detective." Ratigan commented, although for reasons he couldn't explain, he found himself wondering about the lyrics to the song about rainfall.

"So then, shall we begin?" Bailey asked them.

The two rodents nodded.

"So let's go!" Michelle chimed in

Basil and Ratigan got off the couch as Michelle and Bailey began giving them the grand tour of the house.

Little did any of them know that this was a start of a new adventure and that things were about to change drastically for them all.


	2. Chapter 2

When Ratigan rose the following morning, he realized his ears were slightly lower than usual, as if becoming farther apart. His nose was also a few millimeters shorter than he remembered. These were subtle changes, but Ratigan had spent enough time admiring his own reflection that he realized the differences at once.

His appearance looked more like a human, then a humanoid rodent. His eyes widened greatly in shock, and he felt like screaming, but his voice hand abandoned his windpipe as he looked at the rest of his appearance. He no longer had a tail, and his body structure was now more human, though his upper body still looked the same it would be in his real form and his height remained unchanged. He was wearing the pajamas that Alex had made for him last night, a simple long sleeve white shirt and black pajama pants, which had a hole that used to serve for his tail but was now embarrassing.

"What in the world...?" he finally managed to say, but rather softly.

He was not the only one who was going through this change, for when he heard the door next to his own open, he stepped into the hallway to see Basil, who seemed for all the world like a second Sherlock Holmes.

"I'm entirely aware of your concerns," Basil mused before Ratigan could speak, "but I have not the slightest inkling what in the world has occurred."

"First the both of us suddenly, and literally, fall into a new world which is parallel to ours but in another time period, and now we are suddenly turning human? Could this get any more complicated?" Ratigan asked as he rubbed his temples to soothe a migraine.

During a tour of the house yesterday, the detective and the Napoleon of Crime had discovered a great deal about their human hosts.

First of all, this family was a very wealthy one. Most of it belonging to their parents: Brandon Palmer, who was a very well-known and famous interior designer and construction worker, and Jolene Palmer, who was a renowned instructor of manners on etiquette and a translator of English, Spanish, Latin, Russian and French. The children's father had made the house that Bailey currently owned. Originally, they had all lived here until their parents and two of the siblings moved out to live in other places here in Pasadena, though because of their parents jobs they were away from home a lot. Bailey wanted to stay here, so they let her, although their parents had generously insisted that they would pay rent and utilities for their children's homes. Though it seemed odd, the two didn't question any further.

The rodents had also learned about the time period in which they had arrived. The year was 2016, over a century in the future from 1897, so the sibling trio had to tell them nearly everything about the modern household objects and how they were used.

There were six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a library, a kitchen, a living room, and a music room filled with numerous instruments including a harp, violin, piano, guitar, bongos, xylophone, cello, flute, and an ocarina. The home also had a room were Bailey practiced her ballet and roles she was given in plays. A rather large garage was separated by a door from the rec room, which held a couch across from a flat screen TV with a few game consoles like a Wii, Game Cube, and PS2. The room also had a ping pong table, several bean bag chairs, a rather large coffee table, and a large music player and stereo.

Casting aside memories of what they had discovered the previous day, the two former rodents continued to ponder their dilemma as Michelle entered the dining room with breakfast. In her hurry, she nearly collided with Ratigan, almost spilling her cereal in the process.

"Want to lend a hand?" she asked. "Managed to pick up a sliver of metal when using the can opener. I'd get it myself, but it's in my right hand, and I'm not left handed."

As she looked up, her eyes widened in shock at what she was seeing, nearly causing her to drop the food had Ratigan not caught it in time.

Looking at him, and then at Basil, she demanded, "How in the world did you two become human?!"

"Believe me, my dear Miss Palmer, neither of us have an inkling as to how or why this happened." Ratigan answered.

Upon hearing the racket, Bailey and Alex came into the room. Bailey's jaw dropped and Alex stumbled until he fell backwards and landed on his backside.

"What the what?!" the two exclaimed simultaneously.

"Well, we ought not be so surprised," Michelle finally managed to say. "Bipedal rodents who wear human attire, speak human languages, and travel through time in a way that causes them to drop into our swimming pool from the sky are far more of a shock than the idea of said rodents becoming humans. I'll launch a little investigation of my own later, but first, I must have breakfast."

Having heard that using the less dominant hand to eat caused the brain to become more alert, she took her spoon in her left hand, offering the right to Ratigan for the requested succor as she ate.

Ratigan hesitated, nervous about taking her hand in his own. Just the thought of it made his palms sweat. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, but his recent transformation into human form only complicated the matter further. Taking a deep breath, he finally managed to provide the assistance she needed.

Having finally calmed down, thanks to her calm demeanor, Bailey finally suggested, "Might we continue our discussion in the kitchen where we can all talk as we eat breakfast?"

A few minutes later, everyone was seated around the breakfast table in their day attire. Basil and Ratigan had the holes that served for their tails patched up thanks to Alex, who had to make some slight changes to the clothes he was making for them thanks to this recent development later after breakfast. He had stayed over not only finish up some of the orders he had on his list from his clients, but also to be sure that his sisters would be alright. He had asked his neighbor to watch the house for him while he was gone.

Bailey was now wearing a light pink sweater with a picture of a cherry on the center of her chest, black belt, red pants, and red flats. Michelle was wearing a yellow shirt with daisies on it, blue jeans, and red sandals. Alex wore a great button up shirt, dark green cargo pants and dark green boots.

"Well, it's off to the salt mines for another day at the rat race," Michelle muttered. Suddenly realizing what she had just said, she added, "Pardon the expression." She sighed. "My boss will never believe me if I call in sick because a rodent dropped into my swimming pool the day before he turned into a human."

Let alone two," Ratigan added.

"Knowing your boss, he can be rather difficult to convince unless you had a good reason to tell him so that he would let you have a sick day. Besides, its seniors' day, so the zoo will need all the hands it can get." Alex pointed out.

It was then that Basil noticed that Bailey hadn't touched her food at all. Her posture suggested deep thought.

"Is something wrong, Miss Palmer?" Basil asked her before she turned to face him.

"I'm okay Mr. Basil, I've just been thinking about how you and Mr. Ratigan changed forms... and I think I may know why."

"Do enlighten the rest of us, and pray be precise," replied Basil, thoughtfully lighting his pipe.

"Alright. Well, call it silly but it might be true. From some of the science fiction novels and movies I've read and seen, I can only guess that it's because of the temporals of time and space. For years, it has been theorized that there are other worlds and even different universes out there besides our own, some completely different from ours and some simular to ours. Of course, no one had ever been able to prove it, but considering what happened yesterday, we can now assume that it is true. How did you and Mr. Ratigan suddenly turned human? I would have to say that it's because you two were being teleported by technical and dimensional means, depending on which world or universe you would appear in, sometimes you would be transformed and become the species that lives there, give or take how long it takes until you do since its random every time. You would be transformed in order to suit that world or universes need." Bailey explained, "unless you are already a species that resides there."

"And since there are no humanoid animals here, you two became the species that dominates over the other creatures living here," Michelle concluded.

"The theory appears rather ludicrous," Basil remarked, "but it does seem a plausible explanation."

"So now what do we do?"

"Is there anything to be done?" Bailey asked rhetorically. "What are we going to do with these two while we're at work?"

"Perhaps a bit of housework and helping Alex finish those orders he has to do for his clients would be helpful. We hardly have time to do them on our work days, and I'm sure that Alex would appreciate a few extra hands." Michelle suggested.

"Think you can handle that?" asked Bailey.

The two nodded.

The sisters gave the former rodents a list of chores and headed to work: dishes, laundry, trash, windows, sweeping, dusting, vacuuming, and cleaning the pool. The two often had to ask Alex how to use the machines needed to do the chores. Alex had told them to finish their work before helping him with the orders he needed to complete since he needed to make some changes to the clothes he was making for them.

To pass the time as they did what they could for their hosts, the two rivals attempted small talk.

"Now that we know what happened, how are we going to get back home?" Ratigan wondered aloud.

"Perhaps you should attempt plummeting from something rather high!" Basil retorted, lighting his pipe. "If we were in London, we could conduct a thorough investigation, but what's to be done here?!"

Ratigan sighed and got back to work. He could tell this was going to be a long day, and Basil's mood wasn't helping any.

"Was it worth it?" Alex queried.

Basil puffed his pipe. "I beg your pardon?"

"I hear you two have hated each other for a long time. Was it worth trying to kill each other to end up here?"

Basil sighed impatiently. "My dear sir, it was my duty to the law! My duty to our most gracious queen and all innocent lives of Mousedom! Loathing my adversary was hardly intended for my own amusement!"

Ratigan grinned mischievously. "You seem to think it's worth it when Bailey's around." He picked up a pillow and held it close, tenderly stroking it. "Oh, Bailey, my beloved! When I return to Mousedom, you must come with me, for I could not live without you!" Ratigan kissed the pillow, laughing at Basil's baleful lower.

Basil glared at the demented man next to him as he used all his will power to keep his fist from clenching. Ratigan was more of a vexation than anyone could imagine, yet Basil had a ready retort.

"What of her sister, Michelle Palmer? She seems to have taken a liken to you rather quickly."

Basil smirked when Ratigan suddenly stopped laughing and started to pale.

Quickly recovering, Ratigan fished a cigarette from his pocket, frowning a bit as he realized he had to light it himself. "It's known as charisma. Can I help it if women find me irresistible?"

"You mustn't flatter yourself," Basil replied. "Women are often drawn to nurture pathetic creatures too weak or useless to care for themselves."

Ratigan nodded thoughtfully. "That would explain why Bailey fancies you."

Alex rolled his eyes but said nothing. Let these two make fools of themselves if they wished. They'd be out of his hair soon enough.

The front door opened, and the sound of footsteps came from the living room.

"I'm home!" Michelle called.

"How's work?" Alex queried.

His sister laughed. "I'd say it's less work for me taking care of the baby meerkats than it is for you keeping an eye on these two. I'll have to make my lunch hour fast. Heaven knows they need all the help they can get at the zoo today!"

"I can only imagine." Alex finished the last detail of a shirt.

"Oh, by the way, Bailey texted me earlier; she said she'll be coming home in an hour or so because she's helping her instructor teach her kindergarten class, and there are more new students there, and since her usual partner was absent today, she offered her assistance."

Michelle went to the kitchen and began heating up some leftover enchiladas, calling over her shoulder, "I'm not anyone's cook, so if you two are hungry, you can get Alex to show you how to use a microwave!"

She poured herself a tall glass of huckleberry lemonade and waited for the familiar beep that indicated her food was warm enough. Scooping some cottage cheese onto her plate, she began eating.

"So how have things been here?" she queried between bites.

"It was, well... a bit boring, despite the work we did around the house and helping your brother on completing the orders for his clients." Ratigan replied.

"In which ballet will your sister perform?" Basil queried, shooting a glare as Ratigan snickered.

"Swan Lake, which is classic and one of my sister's favorite ballets. It will be this Sunday at 7:00."

Basil nodded in an unsuccessful attempt not to appear too interested.

Michelle looked down to hide a smile. "I do know she needs help rehearsing, but Alex and I are so busy. How about you? I'm sure you wouldn't mind assisting a lady in need. Besides, she's a very graceful and beautiful dancer. I don't suppose you'll be too bored."

This actually made Basil pale a bit as he froze when she said that, even though he knew that Michelle was trying to set him up with her sister, but...

Him... help Bailey rehearse ... for her ballet performance?..

Basil turned his head away as he tried to hide his blush, ignoring Michelle's smug grin, Ratigan's snickering, and Alex's jaw dropping at what she just said.

The older brother soon recovered as he shouted his protest, "I'm not THAT busy, mind you! Besides, I'm pretty sure that she's got her act memorized by now!"

Michelle merely giggled at this response. "Except the entirety of the _pas de deux_. She needs a partner to work with. There's no way she can do all the parts of that by herself without hurting herself."

Ratigan relished Basil's discomfort. He didn't know which was funnier, imagining Basil as a dancer or the fact that the seemingly stoic sleuth finally found himself helpless in the presence of a beautiful face.

Alex also seemed amused. He knew the effect his sister had on men, but for the first time, she actually seemed to reciprocate.

Just then, Michelle's iPhone rang. Getting it out of her pocket, she answered it, "M.P. speaking." There was a pause followed by, "Hey Bailey, what's up?...Yeah, I'm just hanging with the guys at home; why do you ask?...WHAT?! THERE'S BEEN A MURDER AT THE OPERA HOUSE, AND SOMEONE'S TRYING TO FRAME YOU FOR THE CRIME?!...This had better be a joke! If you're joking, you sure got me a good one! You'd better not be serious!"

Her nervous expression soon turned to deep worry, shared by all.

"You're not joking, are you?...Okay, we're on our way…Bye."

As soon as she hung up, she turned to the others. "Bailey's in trouble!"


	3. Chapter 3

Speeding down the streets of the city was a yellow and black Camaro as Michelle, Alex, Basil, and Ratigan were making their way to the opera house to help Bailey, who had been framed for a crime. As the car raced down the streets, the two former rodents and human girl clung to their seats for their lives since Alex was driving the vehicle like a madman.

"Listen, you idiot!" Michelle shrieked. "I'm just recovering from a disability after that car wreck I had in Oklahoma, and if you think I'm going through the trauma, suicidal thoughts, and social rejection again, you can shove that steering wheel up your nose!"

"We have to help our sister!" Alex argued impatiently.

"So your plan is to help her by getting us arrested or killed by your irresponsible operation of the vehicle that can hardly be considered driving?!"

"How else are we going to get there?! By bicycling?!"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP AND FOCUS ON THE ROAD BEFORE THAT DOES HAPPEN?!" Ratigan screamed, shaking violently in fear.

"FOR ONCE, I CONCUR!" Basil yelled, trying to remain calm but was failing miserably. "WHAT INEBRIATE INSTRUCTED YOU IN OPERATING THIS AUTOMOBILE, MR. PALMER?!"

Michelle's voice was dangerously calm as she reached into her purse. "Alexander Joseph Palmer, you have three options. One, start obeying traffic laws because panic will lead to our own demise rather than a solution for our sister. Two, pull over this car at once and allow me to drive, or three, SO HELP ME ARTHUR DOYLE, I WILL MACE YOU HERE AND NOW!"

Alex flinched we he saw that she had brought her trusty mace, which she always carried to discourage those who wished to take advantage of her. He himself had faced the horrific sting when he accidentally came up behind her too quietly one night when he was visiting her for supper. Blinded by the spray, he had stumbled backward and tumbled down a flight of stairs like a ragdoll, resulting in hospitalization and a few permanent scars.

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief as the car slowed down. There would be nothing like a traffic ticket on multiple charges to help them prove Bailey's innocence. Besides, the trauma from her accident coursed through her mind, nearly sending her into uncontrollable tremors throughout her entire body. She hated threatening her brother and would not have purposely harmed him for the world, but he obviously wasn't thinking clearly.

"I need a drink!" she muttered, rummaging through her purse until she found another trusty friend, a can of soda, which she immediately pressed to her lips.

While it was true that she would never touch alcohol or drugs, Michelle had a bad habit of turning to caffeine or sugar when trying to cope with stress.

The former rodents sighed in relief, grateful to Michelle for getting her brother to obey traffic laws, even though her threat went a little too far.

Ratigan finally found his voice. "Miss Palmer, is what you said true? The accident you said you were in?"

"I don't talk about it much," she sighed. "It was the worst day of my life. I thought I had died and gone to a place of eternal punishment. No one tells you that the overpowering fear of death, your disgust with everything about life, and your shaken beliefs about yourself aren't the worst of it. The worst is when you shake every day afterwards, sometimes for hours, for over a year, and doctors can't figure out why. Let a few hand tremors become seizures, and it's even worse. I don't care that the accident happened. It was horrible, but it's over, and I escaped with only rug burn on my elbow from the air bag, so why bother worrying about it?" Michelle sighed again, looking down at her hands in her lap. "But the disability that causes you to drop out of school and lose friends and be unable to find work, that causes you to fear everyone because they automatically judge you based on appearance..." She shook her head sadly. "You don't know how many times I've thought that if on the day of the accident, I could have foreseen all this, I would have made proper use of the glass shards of my windshield."

Alex looked down sadly as he parked the car, remembering that day when it happened. Both he and Bailey were heartbroken, nearly fainting when they heard what happened to her. He remembered sitting by her bed at the hospital in tears, unable to convince themselves, let alone their sister, that somehow things would be alright, and he could never forget spending countless months helping her try to recover, despite the ineffectiveness of medication and counseling. It still hurt them to see her struggle with the aftermath, feeling as if she had no place in human society because she quickly lost every job she found or fell out favor in every social circle that originally accepted her, all because her hands tremored at times. It was like they began trembling the day of the wreck and had never stopped.

Basil felt sorry for her as he too looked down with sorrow, to go through all of that was just both pitiful and saddening. No one should ever go through what she had to endure. Why if Dawson were here, he would surely have done a better job than the physicians in the ER. Basil wondered briefly how his companion was faring back home.

As for the professor, his heart tightened with sympathy and anguish from what he had heard. What she went through was horrible, indescribably awful. No one should have to go through that, especially not her.

Finishing her can of soda, Michelle glanced around at the scenery. Despite her worry over what would happen to Bailey, she nearly smiled when she saw a building that reminded her of her novels that took place in ancient Rome. A lot of things made her think of her novels, especially the zoo's Barbary lion, Darius Judah, who still allowed Michelle to approach him since she had helped raise him from a cub. Many people said Michelle was brave for even having the desire to interact with large cats, wolves, and other wild animals.

"I drive in rush hour," she always replied. "Getting in a lion cage is easy. Except for the occasional freak accident or rogue, wild animals only kill stupid people."

That always brought a laugh, but it was true. The majority of wild animal attacks on nature documentaries, survival series, and other such TV shows were caused by human stupidity. Animals had certain languages and certain needs, and anyone who combined common sense with a bit of research was generally safe. Michelle had been drawn to the lack of complications. In fact, animals were so much easier to understand than her own kind that she had befriended a gaggle of geese to the point where they allowed their goslings to come within three feet of her shoe.

"They think I'm the Goose Girl," she always told herself, smiling a bit as she recalled that in the popular fairy tale, the Goose Girl was actually a princess, "and not once did those geese ever ask me if I was disabled. They judge me for how I act, not how I look."

The mentality behind executions of the Roman arena had been, "You've done something so horrible that you are no longer worthy to be considered a human being. Now get back down there with the other animals where you belong!"

"That's what they've done to me," Michelle always thought. "I've been cast out of human society and forced to take my place among animals. There is, however, a slight plot twist: I like it here! Go ahead and throw me to the wolves! I've held baby wolves in my arms and fed adult wolves from my hands, and not once was I threatened. You want to send a Christian to the lions? Have at it! I could use another African safari! I work with lions, genius!"

There was no doubt about it. People in general were jerks. There were definitely some very nice people, but sadly, the ratio of judgmental to compassionate individuals was highly in favor of the former.

Rodents, on the other hand, were clever. Michelle had many pleasant memories of cuddling her own dear guinea pig under her chin or stroking dwarf hamsters or allowing hairless rats to climb on her shoulders. She had overcome her fear of mice years ago.

"It explains why Basil and Ratigan are decent enough individuals, even if they were enemies," she reasoned. "They've been human for one day after a lifetime as rodents."

Their walk from the parking lot to the opera house was reaching its end. Michelle began taking several deep breaths to calm herself. The adrenaline that coursed through her was becoming stronger than her sense of logic. No one got away with making false accusations or threatening a member of her family. No one.

The moment the gang entered the building, they were stopped by a police officer. "I'm sorry but none of you are allowed in here; a terrible crime has occurred."

"Please, sir, you must let us in! Our sister is here!" Alex begged.

"There's no way we're leaving, buddy!" Michelle added. "Anyone who falsely accuses or threatens a member of our family will have to deal with us!"

"But-."

Basil cleared his throat. "Do allow me to be of assistance. I'm an investigator from London."

Without waiting for the officer's response, Basil immediately began his investigation, determined to prove Bailey innocent at once. How would she perform Swan Lake if imprisoned?

He spotted something on the ground, a single dandelion. Taking out a handkerchief, he picked it up, using his magnifying glass to examine it. On one of the leaves was a drop of blood, and the other had a smudge of blue nail polish on the underside of the flower.

"If he solves this case with a magnifying glass when other investigators couldn't solve it with modern forensics, I'm going to lose all faith in law enforcement," Michelle remarked softly, "not that I have much anyway."

Unwittingly, she clasped the soft object that had accidentally brushed against her wrist, Ratigan's hand. Ratigan stared at their interlocked hands, not wanting to say anything that would cause her to withdraw her hand, but still wondering if she realized that her hand was holding his.

Although being interrogated for the third time by a police officer who blatantly needed to cut back on his doughnut intake, Bailey noticed the small group that had gathered. She called to them as she ran closer.

Michelle embraced her at once. "Are you trying to send us all into cardio arrest?! Thank goodness you're safe!"

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Alex asked her in concern as he too hugged his his sister.

"No, I'm okay. Stressed and frightened, but other than that, I'll live," Bailey replied.

Basil took out one of the plastic bags he had brought with him before he left the house, also taking note of her attire. She was wearing a standard ballet uniform for girls, and her long, flowing hair was in a neat bun. He admitted to himself that she did possess a certain charm and charisma.

"Present your case, and do be precise," Basil instructed.

"Of course," Bailey replied with an immediate nod. "It all started a little over an hour ago."

Bailey was helping her instructor, Miss Esmeralda, teach her younger class the basics in ballet. Everything was going well aside from a few of the students having a bit of trouble keeping their balance or a little issue trying to get one of the steps correctly.

Just then one of Bailey's friends, Eliza Dottie, approached her. Eliza seemed deeply concerned about something. She was wearing a plain white shirt, a long, green skirt with red roses on it, and green flats. She had dark skin, jade green eyes, and long, black hair.

"Bailey, have you seen my uncle anywhere?" she queried in her Canadian accent.

"I think he said he had a meeting this afternoon with one of the dancers," Bailey replied. "Why do you ask?"

"He was supposed to meet up with me for lunch an hour ago. I'm starting to get worried that something happened to him."

"Maybe he got held up in the meeting?"

Eliza shook her head as she replied, "No, he would have notified me ahead of time if he were going to be busy."

Now Bailey felt growing concern. She'd known Eliza and her family ever since childhood. Eliza's mother was an artist; her father who had died of skin cancer a few years ago was a plumber, and her Uncle Theodore was the co-manager of this opera house. In fact, he was the one to recommend Bailey here when he saw that she had a natural girt for ballet dancing and acting when she was five, and she'd been a ballerina there ever since. He had been as much an uncle to her as he was to Eliza, and although he was busy at times, he would always make sure to notify his family if he was going to be held up for a while.

Just then, a frightful scream startled all who heard it. Bailey and the others rushed to the source of the voice, which was coming from one of the break rooms. They immediately saw Jessica, who considered herself Bailey's rival and was also her understudy. Jessica had long, dirty-blonde hair in a high ponytail, brown-red eyes, and tan skin. She too was wearing her ballet uniform. She wore a frightful expression on her face as she stood by the frame of the door as the others turned to what she saw.

It was Eliza's uncle...

He was dead... brutally murdered, gutted like a fish...His insides were ripped up and out; blood everywhere. A look of horror plastered his face, and a bloody knife lay beside his head as blood dripped from his mouth.

Bailey nearly lost her lunch, for she had never seen a murder in real life, despite having watched a lot of science fiction and horror movies on TV. Eliza nearly fainted, and Bailey caught her before she collapsed. The instructor, who had dark brown hair, grey eyes, and pale tan skin and also wearing a ballet uniform, was screaming in horror.

"Uncle..." Eliza's voice broke as tears spilled from her eyes.

Bailey did her best to offer comfort as Miss Esmeralda immediately ran to call the police and tell the others what happened.

"This is terrible! ... Who could've done such a terrible thing?" Bailey thought to herself as she helped Eliza to her feet.

Bailey knew she had to be strong for her friend, and she was determined to do what she could to help her.

Just then, Jessica found something on the ground, a handkerchief. Upon examining it she turned to Bailey, utterly disgusted.

"You... How could you...?" she demanded.

"How could I what?" Bailey queried in confusion.

Eliza turned to face Jessica.

"Don't play dumb with me, Palmer!" Jessica shrieked, continuing her habit of refusing to use Bailey's first name. "I'm talking about this crime! How could you kill him?! Your best friend's uncle?!

Bailey was stunned by this accusation. "What?! Don't be absurd! I would never do such a thing!"

"Why would you think that?" Eliza asked in disbelief.

"Isn't this yours?" she asked in a low voice, showing the handkerchief in her hand, which had blue nail polish on the fingernails.

It was indeed Bailey's handkerchief, stained with the blood of Eliza's uncle. Bailey wondered why her handkerchief would be at the crime scene.

Jessica continued, "To think that someone as 'sweet' and 'caring' as you have shown yourself to be had done such a heinous crime!"

"That's a lie! I would never do such a thing! Never!" Bailey protested.

"Do you really think I would fall for that old gag?" Jessica countered, "Just admit it; you killed him. You killed him because he was a burden to you."

Bailey was horrified. It was completely absurd! Crazy! Absolutely not true at all! Everyone here knew her better than that, especially Uncle Theodore. Bailey would never anything so sickening. She could never harm an innocent person. Her skills in self-defense would only to be used if her life were in danger. Theodore was kind and very generous, always supporting her and helping her do her best; he had never been a burden to her at all!

"That's a lie! I didn't do it!" Bailey nearly screamed.

"I don't believe you either, Jessica," Eliza defended. "I know Bailey better than that."

"Then why is her handkerchief doing here?" Jessica asked.

"How should I know?"

Just then the police arrived, demanding an explanation.

"A murder has been committed, and your culprit is right here!" Jessica told them as she pointed to Bailey.

"That's not true, Jessica!" Bailey protested. "I would never do something so terrible!"

"Sir!" A constable held a piece of paper in his hand. "I found this in the victim's room."

Another officer read the note and asked Bailey, "Is this your handwriting?"

He showed her the note which read:

 _Please meet me in the break room by the kitchen; there's something important I need to discuss with you, and it cannot wait for a day or two. Meet me there at 12:30 pm on the dot._

 _Sincerely,_  
 _Bailey_

The penmanship was indeed an incredible likeness of Bailey's own.

"But this is impossible, I didn't write this!" she protested.

"I checked with your instructor, Miss, and she said that it was yours," the constable argued.

"And there you have it! She's your culprit!" Jessica insisted.

"But I didn't do it! Really, I didn't!" Bailey nearly shouted, her fear rising

The officers would hear none of it.

"That's how it happened," Bailey concluded.

"I must examine this document and obtain a true sample of your own penmanship," Basil stated. "Do take heart. You lack motive, and you have witnesses who support your claim that you were elsewhere when the crime was committed. Might I see your hands?"

Bailey complied.

"Now your shoes, Miss Palmer." Basil knelt and examined the slender feet that were lifted in turn. "Indeed, you are blameless. Had you murdered him, the victim's blood would have splattered on your dress and you would have inevitably gotten a few drops on your shoe, and no matter how thoroughly you cleaned your hands, a red stain would have remained under your nails. Furthermore, the assassin was blatantly left-handed, and I have noted, Miss Palmer, that your right hand is the more dominant of the two."

"Fingerprints," Michelle added. "Modern forensics should tell us whose fingerprints are on the murder weapon."

Basil nodded briefly. "If you'll excuse me, I must speak with the officers."

"Hopefully those dopes will believe him once gathers up all the evidence." Michelle's fist tightened. "When I get my hands on this waste of oxygen, I'll do worse to him than ancient Romans ever did to convicted criminals! Medieval torture devices will be as children's toys!"

"That goes double for me!" Alex chimed in. "That little punk will regret he ever tried to harm my family!"

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Ratigan began reluctantly. "Trust me when I say this, my friends. I've known Basil for years, and he has solved every case that the finest detectives could not. He has foiled my plans more times than I can recall, and as much as I hate to admit it, if anyone can solve this case, it's him."

Michelle squeezed Ratigan's hand, purposely this time. "It means a lot coming from you."

Ratigan blushed, rubbed the back of his head, cleared his throat, and looked away.

"But you wanna know something?" Alex was obviously deep in thought. "Jessica seemed pretty insisted that Bailey was the culprit."

"I noted," Michelle stated. "Who accused Bailey? Who found the note and the handkerchief?"

Meanwhile, Basil had asked one of the officers to take the dandelion to the forensics lab to check the DNA left on it, and he was now talking to the head of police, Ryan Spore, to get any further information, despite the latter's skepticism at this man who greatly resembled Sherlock Holmes.

"If you are a 'top notch' detective, then prove it!"

Basil simply smiled at this. He was going to knock his socks off, as Americans would say.

"Very well. You overslept this morning due to your drinking problem when you aren't on duty. Your career is in jeopardy due to your obsession with your colleague's daughter, and your wife left you last month. You also have the early stages of coronary disease."

Ryan's eyes grew the size of dinner plates. "How in the world did you know that?! I never told anyone!"

"Quite simple, really. Your hair is a tousled mess, and you missed a button, so you were clearly in a hurry to arrive at work this morning. Your eyes are red, and your breath smells of bourbon. I noted your gaze fall on this young lady as she came in and greeted the other officer as her father, but as you gazed at her, your right hand touched your left ring finger, which still bears the mark of a wedding band, although you wear none. At your colleague's baleful lower, you winced and rubbed your chest. Do you still doubt my expertise as an investigator, or do you find me competent enough to solve this case with or without your assistance?"

Ryan tried to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Was this indeed a modern Sherlock Holmes, the renowned investigator who could tell nearly everything about someone at a single glance.

Basil hid a chuckle. "Now then, my dear Spore, perhaps you would kindly inform me what evidence you have gathered thus far."

"Why don't you tell us?!" Ryan couldn't help retorting.

"Hmm ... very well then." Basil proceeded to the scene of the crime as he began to examine the room, ignoring the overpowering stench.

The table was flipped on its side and had a gaping hole in it, which he noted could only be caused by a knife. The force required to do the task had to indicate rage. The chairs had been knocked around and scattered on the floor. On one side of the wall was another hole caused by the same knife, and some splinters lay around. The true culprit behind this had obviously been chasing Eliza's uncle as he tried desperately to keep him away or get him to stop.

At a particular spot on the floor, some thin lines that made a V. This was were the handkerchief was planted and found. Still using his magnifying glass, Basil noted a plain, thin, brown bobby pin with a few strands of hair on it.

Using his handkerchief, he picked it up to get a closer look at it with his magnifying glass. The strands of hair were not the same color as Bailey's, nor was she wearing any bobby pins. Her sister never wore them, stating that they caused discomfort.

Another officer meandered over to Basil. "Need some help?"

Basil turned to him as he continued collecting evidence, noting that the man had dark skin and black hair. His pale brown eyes set below light eyebrows, the left of which rested underneath a scar.

"Deliver this evidence to the forensic lab, if you would." Basil handed him the bag.

"Of course." He accepted it. "The chief left to talk with Miss Palmer a minute ago and told me to help you if you needed it. He seemed to be pretty steamed from something you told him, something about you knowing a lot about him just by looking at him?"

"He requested that I state my observations, but he did not take kindly to them."

"If you don't mind, can you give me an example? Just so I know how well you do?"

Basil nodded, ever amused at the chance to prove his wit. "You are one of Miss Bailey Palmer's admirers and greatly anticipate the performance this Sunday. You were formerly boxer, and you're rather fond of Chinese checkers."

"Whoa, how did you know that?!"

"Elementary," Basil replied.

As the modern Sherlock Holmes explained his most recent conclusion, Michelle motioned for Ratigan to follow her outside.

"I'm not abandoning Bailey," she explained. "I just needed a few moments of fresh air to clear my head. I thought you might like to come with me."

Michelle glanced up at a flock of geese flying overhead. They seemed to be Canada geese, but it was a bit hard to tell due to the angle of the sun.

"Why'd you do it?" she queried.

Ratigan frowned in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why in Doyle's name are you a criminal?! You seem decent enough company and highly intelligent. Surely you could have had any job you wanted, so why crime?! Do you have any plans to reform, or are you going to harm me?!" She sighed. "Could you kill me if you wanted to? Hmm? How would you do it? Knife? Gun? Rope? Poison? Could you make it quick enough that I would only suffer for a few seconds? Do you want to kill me? You heard me mention that I wish I had made proper use of those glass shards from my windshield. Could you do it for me if you wanted?"

The Napoleon of Crime was stunned. Why would she ask such a thing?

"Wait now. What in Tartarus is this look on your face? Pity?!" Michelle shook her head. "Why in the world would a criminal mastermind feel pity?! That would mean he either has a conscience or a heart!" She stood akimbo. "So why'd you do it? What happened? Were you tired of the world judging you, and your oppression turned into hatred, and you lashed out because you trusted no one? Did you become so disgusted with poverty that you vowed it should never again strangle you in its frigid grasp? Why is an intelligent mind such as yours making trouble for the world instead of solving its problems?!"

For several seconds, the silence was broken only by the sounds of traffic and birds warbling.

"I'm alive," she continued. "I'm not happy about it, but I've accepted it. I've learned to ignore the past. No one asked me if I wanted to rebuild my life. No one asked me if I was strong enough. No one even asked me if I wanted to live. Last year I tried to solve the problem, but my siblings always stopped me, so I lived. I am alive, and even though I don't like it, there's nothing I can do about it."

Ratigan continued to stare in stunned silence.

"I understand a lot of things, you know. I understand what oppression, hatred, fear, financial trouble, hopelessness, and a plethora of other demons can do to someone. In fact, I bet I understand enough not to judge someone for being a criminal. I just wish you would tell me why."

He didn't know how long he had been silent, lost in thought he thought about what she had told him. Just hearing how she had tired of life at such a young age caused him anguish. To see someone as upbeat and headstrong as Michelle so ensnared by desolation, her confidence nothing more than a mask that hid the suffering she had been forced to endure…

Truthfully, even though he had only known her for a short time, the thought of ending her life frightened him. His reputation as a murderer was well known, but for the first time in ages, the thought of killing someone nearly made him nauseous, and to take the life of someone like her…

"What is it?" She rested her hand over his. "You're awfully quiet."

Silence continued to hang over him, taking the form of precipitation that threatened to fall from his eyes. Carefully glancing around to make sure no one else could hear, Ratigan finally broke the dreadful silence.

"I was a small child when it happened," he began.

"Go on." Michelle reached up and wiped away a tear that rolled down his face, her compassion overcoming her bewilderment.

He sighed softly. "I was only ten years old at the time. Like everyone else, I had a mother and father who loved me very much, and they were always there for me, especially in the situation we were in. You see, in London, many of the mice were not at all fond of my family, especially concerning we were..."

Ratigan hesitated, but there was no other way to say it.

"We were rats," he continued, "and for as long as I could remember, everyone around us hated us; they believed we were nothing more than filthy, disgusting creatures that should have never existed in the first place. London was full of criminals; a number of them were rats themselves. Their actions caused everyone around us to see our species as untrustworthy, nothing more than monsters. Everyone we met had mocked and scorned us, discriminating. It hurt when they called me, an innocent child, a sewer rat. Neither my family nor I had ever done anything to deserve such an insult!"

Michelle took his hands in hers.

"It angered me, though my parents never let it bother them and just continued life despite everything that was happening to us. My mother told me that not everyone was like this and that there was some people out there who would not care if we were rats and would accept us for who we were. We just had to look hard enough to find them and never lose hope. My father told me that despite the hardships we faced, he was never going to let anyone see that they got to him, for retaliation would only fan the flame of justification toward the bias. He said that no matter what we faced we must push forward, and so we did. Despite the suffering, I felt as long as I were with my family, everything would be fine…and then tragedy struck."

"My family and I were out on an evening stroll. The skies were clear and the temperature was very pleasant, the perfect night to go out for a walk ... or so we thought. Without any warning, we were cornered by some gangsters who were the meanest and nastiest mice around, more interested in killing us than mugging us. My mother was quickly overpowered and pinned down. I was hiding as I watched it all unfold. None of our attackers had spotted me, and the one of them pulled out a knife and killed my mother. She was stabbed through the heart."

Ratigan's voice broke with the anguish of such horrific memories.

He forced himself to continue, "My father snapped and pulled out his gun. I had never seen my father so angry. It frightened me. In a fit of rage, he fired, killing all our attackers except one, who also had a gun, which he aimed at my father. They both fell dead as torrents of blood poured."

"My poor friend!" Michelle tightened her embrace even more. "I can't imagine the pain this must have caused you!"

On impulse, she lightly kissed his cheek before putting her head on his shoulder.

Ratigan blushed slightly, his heart nearly fluttering. Had she truly just kissed him? He nuzzled his head softly against hers.

"Despite my attempts to bury the past, it torments my memory like the plague." His voice trailed off.

A police officer left the building with bags of items in his hands, and another officer passed by the group with a file as he entered the opera house. Neither thought to bother the two who were so engaged in conversation, not that it mattered to the pair.

"You know, you're actually the third person I have ever told about this." Ratigan admitted.

"Who were the other two?"

He hesitated before confessing, "One was a kind, caring woman who was like a mother to me, and the other was...Basil."


	4. Chapter 4

"So what happened to this woman?" Michelle brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "And am I to assume you knew Basil before you became enemies?"

Ratigan nodded tersely. "The police found me sobbing when they came to remove my parents' bodies from the murder scene. As soon as I explained to them what had happened, I was whisked away to the nearest orphanage. The mouse in charge was very kind. She told me that despite my species, I deserved the chance of a better life. She turned away no innocent child to perish on the streets, regardless of species."

"Go on."

"Although I was grateful for her kindness, the other children weren't nearly as accepting. My life was a nightmare. I was tormented and mocked daily. Desperate to escape a friendless world, I isolated myself in books, but one autumn morning, everything changed. A woman in her late forties who had recently lost her husband in a carriage accident was looking to adopt a child. She had pale brown eyes and white fur, and she wore a beautiful kimono with red and white roses, a gift from her late husband on their wedding anniversary when he returned from a business trip to Osaka. While the other children played or tried to get her attention, her gaze settled on me. I was reading a book about mathematics, and when she approached me, she saw my abrasions and contusions. For the first time in three months, someone cared enough about me to pull me into her arms and see me as a helpless child rather than a filthy urchin. She held me as the angst finally poured from my eyes, and she chose me to be her child."

Michelle nodded. "What was her name?"

"Farfalla Autumn Hamilton."

Michelle had never heard of anyone being named Farfalla, but it was indeed a lovely name, for it was the Italian word for _butterfly._

"She took me home that day, and she patiently listened to my story, never once interrupting. She always showed me love and kindness. Although she worked as a florist, she was from a wealthy family, so we never once had to worry about money. I had the best education, and I was taught proper morals and etiquette, and I had nice clothes, but above all, she was always there when I needed her. I did my best to be an obedient, helpful child because I knew I wasn't facing the world alone anymore."

Ratigan continued his narrative, describing how he had met Basil. When the future professor had reached thirteen years of age, the class had gotten a new student of eight, the son of a renowned detective. Being a prodigy, the new student studied material far more advanced than his that of his peers. Rather than shunning Ratigan at once, this newcomer, who would eventually assume the title Basil of Baker Street, regarded him with curiosity. The two were fast friends. For seven years, the two were as brothers, defending each other against the torments of the other students, helping each other advance academically.

"But it all changed," Ratigan concluded.

"Let me guess," Michelle began. "The discrimination against rats became too much, or worse, someone committed a horrendous crime against the woman who had given you care, and you snapped. You became a criminal mastermind, not caring who you hurt because society had never cared about you, and he was the detective determined to stop you."

She pulled away. "You know what?! I can't believe you! I understand oppression and being cast out of society. I understand feeling alone and abhorred by the world. I understand lashing out. What I can't understand is why you want to go back! When we find a way to get you and Basil back home, you'll be a rat in a biased society again, a renowned criminal, and you will be hanged by mice who loathe your very existence, and when others read about it in the newspaper, they'll celebrate and have parades in Basil's honor and literally dance on your grave. Is that what you want?!"

After a brief pause, she continued, "Do you remember what you were wearing on the day you fell into the swimming pool? You had a handful of gems in your jacket pocket, which surprisingly grew as you did, no doubt in order to maintain size proportion. Do you not realize what you could do with the money of half of those?"

Her eyes took on the distant look of a daydreamer. "You could spend months volunteering at conservation centers in Africa, saving endangered species and helping local people with the challenges that come from living among wild animals. You could help save the wolves of Europe and work with field biologists there to see the species thrive again. You could teach English as a second language in Madagascar, Thailand, Romania, the list is endless. You could build orphanages and women's shelters in India and help those ostracized by society see that they too are human beings worthy of respect. You could go to South America and help conservationists with baby sea turtles. Just imagine a trip around the world doing what you'd like for as long as you wish, experiencing all those different cultures and hearing their stories and seeing their historic monuments, trying new foods and new ways to dress. If you didn't want to be gone for long periods of time, you could break it down into several trips.

"After all that, you'd still have a considerable sum of money. You could buy a house that looks like a castle and give it the appearance of a mansion. Your living room could be red and gold like Buckingham Palace, and your bedroom could be black and gold without windows so the sun wouldn't wake you. Of course the living room would have a huge window so the rising or setting sun would shine through the curtain and bathe the room in an aura of red light. You could make a basement that looked like a cave. Your yard would have sunflowers and so many trees that it looked like you were in the forest, and you would have rose bushes on either side of your porch, as well as stone lions standing guard. Oh, it would look like something from a fairy tale! And you could have a winding staircase, and you would have plenty of space for your dogs, a silver and white sable German shepherd that looks like a wolf would be named Prince Charming, and his closest companion would be an Irish wolfhound by the name of Alonzo Quijana. You'd swear two dogs were enough, but you'd also take in a brown mastiff/great Dane mix and give him a black lion mane, and you would call him Andrew."

Ratigan's mind was still trying to process such detailed descriptions.

"You could do anything you wanted, anything at all, for the rest of your life." Michelle took his hand. "So why do you want to go back to Mousedom and hang as a public enemy instead of finding the life you were meant to have? Besides, in Mousedom, you're a hated rat, but here, as a human, you're...well, you know...you might meet someone, you know? You've got muscles, ebony hair, dark eyes, musical talent...You can't tell. You might eventually find someone special."

Alex rushed outside at that moment. "Basil's solved the case. He wants everyone to meet in the foyer."

Five minutes later, all involved parties had assembled.

"I shall be brief," Basil stated. "We have all gathered because a heinous crime has been committed. The culprit has put forth great effort in order to make false accusations against Miss Bailey Palmer."

"False?!" Inspector Ryan interrupted. "What on earth do you mean?! Her handkerchief was found at the crime scene, and there was a letter in her..."

He interrupted his speech with an exclamation of pain. The accident had caused Michelle to lose a great deal of respect for law enforcement officials, and this inspector was sorely trying her patience. The flames of her eyes dared him to contradict the detective again, but the inspector had enough sense to keep silent.

"The victim," Basil began, "was Isaac Dottie, who was sixty-seven years of age. Mr. Dottie co-managed this establishment along with one Carlos Delgado. The letter received by Dottie was assumed to be written by Miss Palmer's own hand, but it was blatantly forged by her rival who yearned for greater roles while Miss Palmer remained in custody and thus unable to perform. Having thoroughly analyzed the evidence, I have concluded the murderess to be none other than her understudy, Miss Jessica Taylor!"

Michelle crossed her arms. "Well, I hate to say I told you so, but..." She cleared her throat. "Thank you, Mr. Basil, for proving my sister's innocence."

Jessica immediately began demanding proof of the detective's claim, protesting that she was guiltless. With a smug grin, Basil explained his deductions. After all his years as an investigator, he had yet to tire of informing criminals how he had outwitted them. As the officers arrested Jessica, Michelle couldn't resist teasing her sister.

"Oh, Mr. Basil! You're the greatest detective ever!" She batted her eyes at Ratigan and threw her arms around him. "Marry me!"

Despite his slight blush, Ratigan was unable to hide a chuckle.

"Michelle!" Bailey exclaimed.

"Hardly proper, Miss Palmer!" Basil added.

Michelle giggled mischievously as she casually waved aside the scolding.

Alex shook his head. "At times like this, I can't even begin to imagine what's in your head, sis."

She bowed grandly. "Flatterer!"

Ignoring the crowd that was still present, Basil turned his attention to Bailey. "Are you well, Miss Palmer?"

Bailey smiled warmly, unwittingly creating the slightest stirrings of maudlin emotion within him as she replied, "I'm okay. Thank you so much! Without you, I'd be in jail!"

Michelle faked a swoon into Ratigan's arms, stroking his face, "Oh, Basil! You just sweep me off my feet! I'd be lost without you!"

Ratigan's face felt as if it were on fire, but he still managed to still a trembling hand long enough to stroke her hair and mutter, "And I you, Miss Palmer."

Alex rolled his eyes. Were those two ever serious?

Basil was caught off guard by a tight embrace from Bailey's instructor, Miss Esmeralda Castellana. With a heavy European accent, she thanked him repeatedly for saving her finest student from undeserved imprisonment, her gratitude punctuated by tears.

Although he had never cared to see the innocent punished, for some reason, this case bothered Basil more than his previous work. It was worse for Bailey to be unjustly punished than for anyone else to suffer the same fate. He tried unsuccessfully to brush aside these feelings he could not explain.

"Do spare me the sentimentality," he replied. "I have merely performed my duty as an investigator."

Miss Castellana released him. "Such modesty! Such valor! I can see why Bailey admires you! Of course, it's no surprise that you favor my star pupil! Her beauty and grace are beyond compare, no?"

Seeing Basil and Bailey brushed, Michelle and Ratigan tried unsuccessfully to hide the smirks that crossed their lips.

"Madame, I can assure you that my relationship with Miss Palmer is entirely platonic," Basil replied.

"And I can assure you that I own a beachfront in tropical Kansas," Michelle whispered, nearly rendering Ratigan helpless in a fit of silent laughter.

"He's right, ma'am," Baily added. "We're nothing more than friends."

Were they? For some reason, it seemed to be more? There was so much Bailey wanted to say, if only she could find the words.

Miss Castellana shrugged. "Whatever you say, darling."

One of the other dancers approached her and whispered something.

"Oh dear! How could I have forgotten?!"

"What's wrong now?" Alex queried.

"The male lead for Swan Lake and his understudy have both come down with a horrible case of measles, and I have yet to find a replacement!"

Ratigan couldn't resist an opportunity. "I know Mr. Basil tends to enjoy theater a lot more than he cares to admit. He's no doubt seen Swan Lake a time or two!"

"Excellent!" Miss Castellana exclaimed, turning to Basil. "Miss Palmer will fill you in on the details, and we'll find an extra costume for you! Off with you now to practice! Shoo! Time's wasting!"

A cloud of silence descended over the group as they walked through the theater doors, but less than ten steps outside, Ratigan became helpless in a fit of laughter, despite Basil's baleful lower.

"Basil in leotards! In public!" Ratigan wiped away the tears of mirth that dripped down his cheek, attempting to mimic a few ballet steps.

Michelle batted her eyes. "Oh, Basil, my love! We shall be the epitome of beauty and grace! Glide with me, my swan!"

Ratigan nearly fell over from laughter. Michelle was on her knees in her own fit of breathless giggles.

"Really!" Alex scolded. "Basil just rescued Bailey from injustice, and you two amuse yourself by taunting him simply for having a role in a ballet! What are you, hyenas?!"

"I happen to like hyenas, thank you," Michelle reminded him. "They've always been a personal favorite of mine! By the way, aren't their babies just adorable?! They're like sweet, little teddy bears! Furthermore, hyenas laugh out of aggression or excitement, not humor."

Alex rolled his eyes. What was to be done with someone who reveled in her own sarcasm?

Basil was beginning to feel a sense of dread. When he returned to Mousedom, his reputation would be ruined if anyone, either criminal or law enforcement official, ever found out about his ballet role.

Bailey's soft, brown eyes betrayed her. For some reason, she was even more nervous than Basil about the performance, even though she had been in ballet ever since she was a young child.

Unable to concentrate on her job, Michelle called the zoo with the honest excuse of a family emergency and was granted the rest of the day off with pay. To her relief, the ride home was much less eventful than the ride to the theater had been, and Ratigan and Basil were able to see more of the city and have a better explanation of the inventions of this time period that still seemed strange to them.

When they arrived home, Alex raised his eyebrows and remarked, "It seems another friend of yours has arrived."

The others turned to see a human-sized mouse, still dripping wet from the swimming pool, standing on the front porch.

Basil rushed toward the visitor. "Dawson?!"


	5. Chapter 5

Basil sipped his tea as the newly transformed humans took their seats in the living room. Despite his bewilderment at the recent turn of events, he was grateful to have Dawson's companionship once more. The detective still didn't know how Fidget had survived his fall into the Thames, but Ratigan had survived plummeting from the hands of the clock tower, and all four were here in human form, so perhaps anything was possibly. There were some things about science that even the finest university courses failed to present. Basil simply wished to return to Baker Street and resume his life as usual before half of Mousedom rained into the Palmers' swimming pool.

"Now that Mr. Basil has finished his explanations as to how you came to be here," Alex began, "may we know your names?"

Ratigan smiled. "This is Fabian Lambert, although I always called him Fidget. The portly fellow in Dr. Dawson, Basil's associate."

"Have you a migraine, Dawson?" Basil inquired.

"Not exactly." Dawson continued rubbing his temples. "I just feel a bit overwhelmed, as if I've learned too much information at once."

"Hmm." Basil took another sip of tea. "I experienced rather similar disorientation when solving the case for Miss Palmer. It should pass momentarily, at which point you shall feel as if you have gained knowledge."

"What kind of knowledge?"

Basil frowned. "For once, I have reached a conclusion without sufficient evidence. I know about computers and collecting DNA samples. I know not how I acquired this knowledge since this morning, I failed to realize its existence, yet somehow, I feel I truly understand various concepts known to detectives in this century."

Fidget laughed. "I ain't surprised none. It's yur area of specialtiesation."

" _Specialization_ ," Basil corrected.

"Point is, ya know what a sleuth's gotta know for this time. Betcha Dawson knows 'bout modern doctrine."

"He means _doctoring_ ," Ratigan remarked.

"Mrs. Judson was here, she'd a known ever'thing in this house in no time. 'Cause she's a housekeeper. Flaversham builds stuff. He woulda known 'bout the big machine outside," Fidget concluded.

"It's called a car," Ratigan answered.

Basil sighed. "Fidget, if your theory were correct, in which field of expertise would you flourish?"

Fidget thought a moment. "Well, I betcha I could be one of them wine tasters in France."

Ratigan did his best to hide his laughter.

"What would ya be?"

He chuckled. "Well, Fidget, that's for me to know and Basil not to find out."

Noticing a slight red stain on her wrist, Michelle stood. "It's been lovely meeting you two, but I need a bit of fresh air to clear my mind."

As his sister turned to leave the room, Alex wasn't fooled. "Did it reopen again?!"

Michelle clicked her tongue in disapproval. "My dear brother, must I remind you? Mention not the guanaco in the presence of the puma, as the saying goes."

Bailey crossed her arms. "When you got that cut a few days ago, you said you didn't need to go to the hospital! You said it would heal on its own! You said..."

Michelle shrugged. "I say a lot of things. Who listens?"

"You also say that with the extremely rare exception, wild animals only eat stupid people!"

"All too true." Seeing her sister's frown, Michelle resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. "Bailey, I work at a zoo. Scratches and bites happen. It's all part of the job."

"So is getting help when you need it," Alex put in.

"When will these things stop happening?!" Bailey demanded. "First that horrific car accident where some loser slammed his truck into your driver's door...!"

"And I escaped with rug burn on my elbow from the airbag," Michelle reminded her.

"Are you trying to see which of us has the first heart attack?!"

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough!" Bailey took a deep breath. "Please, sis, just let the doctor take a look at your wrist. You know, just to be sure? For us?"

Michelle chuckled. "Going to the doctor to make someone else feel better! Now that's a new one!"

Alex wondered how he had gotten caught in the crossfire between two obstinate young ladies. He could understand both points of view, but getting the two of them to find middle ground was nearly impossible.

"My head no longer aches," remarked Dawson, "but if you'll forgive me for saying so, yours may."

"Mine already does," Bailey muttered.

"Alright," Michelle agreed, "but make it quick. I haven't practiced the piano all day."

"You're not invincible, you know," Alex commented.

"I literally throw myself to the wolves every day," Michelle reminded him. "Next time I have a paper cut, I'll be sure to tell you two so you can bring oxygen masks and a good defibrillator, and I'll no doubt need a blood transfusion, but make sure you give me general anesthetic first. Paper cuts are excruciating, and you can put that on my tombstone."

By now, tears of frustration were clearly visible in Bailey's eyes. "We almost lost you once! We're not losing you again!"

With that, she stormed upstairs to her room. Why did her sister have to be so stubborn?! Why couldn't she take anything seriously?! Why hadn't the accident made her take more precautions instead of causing her to become more reckless?!

Didn't Michelle understand that indestructible superheroes existed only in comics?! Would she never take her injuries seriously?! Couldn't she see how much her siblings loved her and tried to look after her?! Ignoring problems never helped anyone!

Downstairs, Ratigan sat next to Michelle, who was seated on the sofa beside Dawson's chair. As the doctor examined the wound, Ratigan unwittingly took the patient's other hand.

"I'm afraid this will require a few sutures," Dawson stated, "after we clear out the infection."

"I'm sure that's not..." Michelle started to protest.

"Please, Miss Palmer, allow me to mend it for you. If left as it is now, it will only grow worse."

Having spent most of her life among animals, Michelle knew how to speak and behave with more confidence than one felt, as well as the importance of doing so, but she also knew how the slightest nick could end one's life if not tended properly. Above all, she remembered Bailey's reaction. She had never wanted to hurt her sister.

Michelle sighed. "Okay. Go ahead."

"Not to worry. After the local anesthetic, you'll feel nothing."

Ratigan squeezed her hand on impulse. "I'm here."

Never one to resist an opportunity, Michelle rested her head on his shoulder. "That's all I need to know, and you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close, and rain..."

Here was a part of her song that Ratigan thought he remembered. "And rain..."

"Will make the flowers..."

"Will make the flowers..."

Oh, what was the last word?! It probably rhymed with _know._ Oh yes! Of course!

"Grow," Ratigan finished, remembering the flourish of lightly kissing the top of her head.

Fidget cackled. "This yur girlfriend, boss?"

Michelle blushed so heavily that her ears felt warm. "We're just friends."

"Yeah, sure! I think the boss likes ya!"

Noticing Ratigan had also turned an unnatural shade of crimson, Michelle changed the subject. "Have you ever noticed about this song that the last line for the female vocalist is different? 'Rain will make the flowers grow' means 'rain will cause flowers to bloom,' but without the last word, 'rain will make the flowers' means 'rain will create flowers."

The zoologist had enough English education major left in her to discuss the double and sometimes triple meanings of each line of the song, as well as the concept in general, but knowing that her guests weren't as familiar with musicals as she had come to be, she refrained.

"Not to worry," Alex assured the others. "Bailey and Michelle will make up in no time. You'll see."

"So this has happened before?" Ratigan queried.

"Unfortunately."

"Anyone seen the sleuth?" Fidget asked.

"Probably went to talk to Bailey," Michelle commented. "After all, they are in a ballet together."

Fidget instantly collapsed in a fit of laughter. Dawson was perplexed by the idea of Basil in such a performance. He would ask his friend about it later.

Michelle grinned mischievously. "I bet Basil has a few words of endearment to make Bailey feel better."

Fidget rolled on the floor in his laughing fit.

"But as soon as the doctor finishes his work, I intend to put things right."

"With your sister?" Ratigan asked.

Michelle shook her head. "No, I intend to find Satan or Pluto or the Governor of Oklahoma or whoever's in charge of this place so I can beg for mercy because I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one suspect that we've all died and gone to some place of eternal torture, and I'm all for the idea of getting out of here immediately...if not sooner!"


	6. Chapter 6

Rarely did Basil find himself in situations that caused a lack of his natural self-confidence, but he was quite unsure of himself as he stepped into the room with soft yellow walls that surrounded red carpet and teal curtains with a floral print. The bookshelf contained numerous detective stories, English to ASL and English to French dictionaries, several books on ballet, and a reference of gems and precious stones. The detective also noted a dresser dull in color but well kept. A large closet was to the right of a desk with a lamp, several journals, a large eraser, a pencil sharpener, and a coffee mug of writing utensils. There was also a nightstand with another lamp and yet another journal with a pen resting beside it, and just to the left was a queen-size bed, where Bailey was sobbing into a pillow.

Basil cleared his throat. "Miss Palmer?"

Bailey made no reply.

"Do take heart, Miss Palmer." Basil tentatively sat beside her on the bed, lightly gripping her shoulder. "Dawson's quite the remarkable surgeon. He could suture a wound during a bout of somnambulism. Your sister will make a complete recovery in no time."

The sobs quieted enough that the faint jingle of keys could be heard downstairs.

"Come, Ratigan," Michelle coaxed. "It will be easier for the doctor to work if we're not in his way."

"Will Fidget be alright?" queried Ratigan.

"He should be. Dawson's spent years dealing with some of the worst cases. He did serve in the military, after all."

The two slipped outside, and Michelle put on a pair of sunglasses as they walked to the car.

"Are you feeling any better?"Ratigan asked.

Michelle opened the car door. "About to go into shock from pain and blood loss." She fastened her seat belt. "I'm fine. My wrist is still numb from the local."

"I'm surprised you didn't flinch when the doctor administered it. It must've stung like the deuce."

She shrugged.

"Was it an accident?" Ratigan shut his door.

"What, the anesthetic?"

"The cut on your wrist. Was it really from one of the animals at your zoo, or did you try to hurt yourself?"

Michelle rested her hand over his. "You wanna break the law?"

Meanwhile, Basil continued his attempt to console Bailey.

"Do take heart, Miss Palmer. Lamentably, many people fall victim to some manner of unmerited trauma during the course of a lifetime."

"I understand," Bailey answered. "I was the first in our family to experience it."

He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Pray tell."

At the tender age of six, Bailey had been drawing pictures of rainbows and unicorns on the sidewalk, not caring about the chalk dust on her dress. It was her favorite pastime at recess.

As she drew, a bully by the name of Conner approached. He had short blond hair, light tan skin, and piercing blue eyes that held less warmth than the average blizzard. Although his shirt was red, his shorts and tennis shoes were black.

Bailey was mistrustful at first. Conner and his gang had frequently tormented her. However, this time, he seemed remorseful.

"Listen here, Bailey. Me and the guys feel real bad for how we've been treating you. We're products of our environments, ya know? My old man gets plastered all the time and makes me feel real bad about myself, so that's why I picked on such an easy target like you. It ain't right though. Anyway, we're real sorry."

Ignoring his appalling grammar, Bailey smiled warmly. It was never her nature to hold a grudge, and Conner seemed so sincere.

"I forgive you, Conner," she answered, "but just remember that hurting someone for any reason only leads to more problems instead of solving your own."

"I ain't gonna do it no more," he replied. "Honest. Me and the guys found a baby squirrel in the bushes. Ya wanna see?"

Recalling the squirrel who now ate from her sister's hand as a result of having known her since infancy, Bailey was only too eager.

"I'd love to see it!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Great! Just follow me!"

As they neared the bush, Bailey noted the presence of Lisa and Edward. The other three members of Conner's gang had been transferred to other schools due to their families moving elsewhere. At least, that was what the other students were told, but there were also rumors circulating about Kyle being sent to military school and Jake being in juvenile hall. No one could be certain what had happened to Molly.

Lisa wore a pink dress and pink flats. The two ponytails of her dark hair were held with pink scrunchies. If her eyes and skin hadn't been brown, she probably would have chosen pink for them as well.

Edward looked for all the world like a goblin. An unsuccessful attempt to dye his hair had turned it a hideous shade of orange, a stark contrast with his blue eyes, which rested above a crooked nose. He wore a blue striped jacket over a white polka dot shirt and pants that would shame a scarecrow, not that his scuffed up shoes, which bore the graffiti of a ballpoint pen, were any better.

"Hi, Bailey!" Lisa greeted. "Did you forgive us?"

"Yup!" Bailey answered.

"That's terrific!"

Edward nodded. "We knew you'd understand!"

"Where's the squirrel?" Bailey asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

Conner put a finger to his lips. "It's in there. Ya gotta crawl real quiet and slow so ya don't scare it."

Bailey nodded and got down on her hands and knees, barely breathing as she inched forward. Without a warning, she suddenly heard a horrendous **_CLANK!_** behind her and realized she had been tricked. The bushes had concealed a dog cage.

"That was your best one yet, Conner!" Edward remarked.

Conner laughed. "Yeah! We sure got her good! Boy, she sure is dumb!"

Lisa shook her head. "You are just too trusting! You know that? Did you really think we'd want to be friends that easily? Did you really think we'd change our ways?"

"Cry, you big baby!" jeered Edward. "All cowards do!"

"Illegal poaching!" another voice called. "You've trapped our sister out of season, and you don't have a license! Furthermore, she's a protected species! You're over your bag limit!"

"Well, look who it is!" Conner jeered. "The nature freak!"

Michelle crossed her arms. "Contrary to popular belief, the mongoose typically prefers less dangerous prey than the cobra, but there are indeed times when it will make an exception."

"You callin' me a cobra?!"

"Of course not! Why would I insult an innocent snake like that?!"

Conner lunged at her. The next moment, he was lying on the ground, rolling and make high pitched sounds of pain.

Alex suddenly appeared with Mrs. Jennet.

"What is the meaning of this?!" the teacher demanded as Alex freed his sister. "Locking an innocent girl up like an animal! I'm surprised at you!"

Michelle was having to hold back Alex, who was screaming something about "slaying those monsters like the Minotaur" and "flushing those useless parasites down the toilet." The Palmer family never had been skilled at keeping insults short but effective.

"Hush, Alex!" Michelle chided. "If we interfere, we too shall be subjected to punitive measures by authority."

"What?"

"I said we've done our jobs. Now we need to settle down and let the teachers deal with them."

"Right."

Mrs. Jennet continued to address the bullies. "What has Bailey ever done to you?!"

"She's a total nitwit!" Lisa answered. "She should still be in preschool!"

"She oughta just disappear!" Conner added. "She ain't worth keeping around! Better if she ain't never been born!"

The words pierced the very core of Bailey's being. Why did anyone think of this way? What had she ever done?

Mrs. Jennet grabbed Lisa by one arm and Edward by another, ordering Conner to follow, but a few steps away, he turned back, unwilling to face the principal without a fight. He lunged for Alex, who had his arms around Bailey to comfort her, but Michelle stepped in front of her siblings, taking the brunt of his wrath.

It was hard enough for Bailey to face bullies, but seeing her sister pummeled was too much to bear. Strength she had never known suddenly coursed through her veins, and in an instant, she had thrown herself into the battle. Almost without realizing what she was doing, Bailey demonstrated superb instinctive fighting skills. Conner was quickly thrown to his back, his nose bleeding.

"This has gone too far!" Bailey shouted. "Vengeance is not my nature, but I will defend my family until my last breath! I never hurt you, and I will not tolerate you hurting my family or me anymore! Do you hear me?! NO MORE!"

"That is enough!" Principal Johnson pulled Bailey away from the fight and seized Conner. "You're coming with me, young man!"

Michelle clicked her tongue as the bully was taken away. "Often the Cape buffalo turns on the lion, sometimes even killing it."

On their way to the school nurse's office, Bailey apologized for not having stood up for herself sooner.

"You mean you're sorry that your first reaction was trying to solve your problems without violence?" Alex shook his head. "I wish certain political leaders had that idea."

Feeling the love and support in the embrace of her siblings, Bailey smiled, her emotional turmoil melting away.

"Alex, you're unscathed," Michelle remarked. "Why don't you go to class?"

"No way! I'm here to support my sisters!"

The nurse blinked when she saw her patients.

"Take care of Bailey first," Michelle insisted.

The nurse gave her a puzzled look.

"Please."

With a nod, the nurse took Bailey into her office to treat the only wound she had suffered: a skinned knee.

"Look at you," Alex sighed as he sat with Michelle in the chairs just outside the nurse's office. "You're a frightful mess of scrapes and bruises. Conner was trying to pick a fight with me. Why did you come between us?"

She nearly chuckled. "I guess now I know how it feels to be the heroic dog in the movies that comes between its owner and a bear. As I bleed out in your arms, shall I pronounce a plague on both your houses?" She frowned at her own reference to Shakespeare. "Wait. That would be my house too."

Alex laughed. "You're going to be just fine."

"Of course I will! What did you expect me to do, this?!" Michelle leaned on her brother. "Don't you fret, Monsieur Marius. I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now..."

"Sis, you've been watching way too many musicals."

"Enjoy it while you can, Alex. Someday I'll be leaning on another man I love and singing to him."

When Bailey had finished her story, Basil sighed.

"Those who demonstrate violent tendencies in youth are often incarcerated in adulthood," he remarked. "These ruffians are no doubt in prison while you and your family enjoy this fine lifestyle you have made for yourselves."

Basil was silent, despising anyone who would cause a child such misery. He had loathed Ratigan's actions toward Olivia during the Flaversham Failure, but somehow, he seemed even more troubled to hear of what had befallen Bailey.

Comforted by his presence, Bailey rested her head on his chest, causing Basil to experience feelings he could not describe. She was rather attractive. Should he tell her as much? No, a true investigator must not be caught in maudlin sentimentality...yet he would be returning home soon, so did it matter? No, that was precisely it. He must return to Mousedom and protect the innocent, and Bailey must remain in this world of cars and televisions and Internet. She would be miserable in a lifestyle a hundred years before her time.

No, he mustn't feel anything for her. It was better for them both that he didn't.


End file.
